Last Fragments in Balatonfüred
by startrack
Summary: Inspired by the Hungarian Revolution of 1848. Historic details and places in reality are mentioned, but preciseness is not assured. A meticulous depiction of the relationship. After all those revolts and chaos, Hungary was drowned into exhaust and oblivion of everything. After a short visit in Vienna, Prussia determined to take a trip to Lake Balaton. With her companion, of course.
1. Chapter 1 Rain in late spring

**1. Rain in late spring**

* * *

_Wien, spring, 1850_

The cumbrous, gloomy clouds has collided fiercely, pouring heavy rain to the ground and blocking lights from sunlight since this early morning. The rain kept dropping until noon, so Hungary could only start her work in the garden in the mildly cold afternoon.

The skyline still seems melancholy, while she is collecting remnant of flowers and leaves with her broom, and this is the only job she has on a daily basis currently. A breeze in late spring blows up her honey-blond hair strands and ruffles of her olive working dress. It has been a long time since the last time she did whole-day housework as a maid in this mansion.

The revolution, the word flashes across her mind. She knows that "they" are the special ones. They own human bodies, all kinds of emotions and senses, and are even called by their human names just like normal people; on the other hand, they stop growing elder once their own countries establish and thrive in maturity, and they are tortured by pain once serious events—war, disasters, revolutions—occur. They have needs for air, water, food and clothing, but no permanent physical harm will stay with them, neither does death come to them. Infinite life, until the resolve of the country. Nevertheless, she has no concrete concept of how it processes, and she only develops a vague impression that they may just fade away like dust of time or disappear all of a sudden.

As a result, when the revolution in Kingdom of Hungary blasted two years ago, she has suffered unimaginable pain and agony, both physically and mentally. The strife between the Magyar revolutionists and the formal Hungarian government has led to the enormous aftermath. Undoubtedly, Austria has ordered her to stop working and take a rest in serenity for recovery. For various reasons, she was told not to leave the mansion except necessity. Fortunately, the mansion locates in the suburb of Wien, where it contains an immense area of green space, and she was allowed to roam around the field when the weather was pleasant. Once she found herself better, she asked Austria to appoint tasks to her again, though he begged her to obey the doctor's order by staying in bed a little longer.

Actually, she doesn't think badly about his advice. It is true that there is still a black hole of emptiness, and dizziness attacks her abruptly, but the nursing surveillance suffocated her from time to time. In her opinion, to labor is a more effective cure than to stay still. As a country, she feels more indisposed as it seems for reason.

When she finishes packaging the cleaned petals of tulips with her knitted small bag, she straightens up and calls out, "I know you're there, so stop hiding is your only choice."

From the quivering bush comes out the young man, who she has already known for centuries. "Hey, that doesn't count for a welcome to the awesome me!" Prussia protests loudly. "Who cares about your egotism? Tell me, after such a long time, what business do you have here today, Prussia?" she stares at him with half disturbance and half nostalgia. She can't really remember when the last time he came was. To them, the time length divided by year is actually too trivial to show the difference.

"You do seem more energetic than I thought, Hungary." He gives her that distinguishing grin. "You're still working for that pansy aristocrat? How annoying…" He instantly receives a swift crack on his head by that "evil" kitchen utensil not even before he finishes his sentence. "Ouch! That hurts you stupid woman!" "Don't you dare to blame Mr. Austria, idiot! It is I who asked for the work in garden." He swears to himself next time he must find out where the hell she puts that frying pan with her. However, seeing her with her weapon eases him a bit.

"Do you have other works on schedule except from this flowery stuff?" He asks.  
"No, only to change the water in vases later. So, why are you here?" She asks directly. "Nothing, just to deliver some important documents to Austria."  
"Mr. Austria is out…"  
"Ja, I know. I have already left them to the butler, so…ah, how have you been?"

She hesitates, and then says blankly, "I think I'm okay. How about you and Ludwig? " He is not so fond of her simple answer, knowing what she has been through lately. "Well, I'm awesome as always, and Ludwig is growing and learning fast. He is such a cute little brat! Oh by the way, he told me to thank you for the ribbons with embroidery you made for his toy bear. He said he likes it very much." Because Ludwig is at a young age and there is not yet a united, centralized government, so they all call him by his human name. "Really? I'm glad he does! Ludwig is truly a polite and adorable boy, unlike somebody."She smiles. "Ja, ja, whatever." He notices her fluffy smile widening on her face, which lightens the atmosphere between them.

Actually, he kind of says the white lie by not telling her other things. The revolutionary wave has rushed over Europe since 1848. Prussian government has also suppressed several revolts, though not that serious compared to hers or Austrian ones. Furthermore, the intensity between Austria and Prussia over the main control of Deutscher Bund has deepened. He now has to do more negotiation and with Austria and perform diplomatic tactics with other countries in order to support Ludwig, which drives him not only mad but tired. Consequently, he doesn't want to worry her more, considering her health. "Do you really feel better now?" He asks her. "…I know I can handle it properly after a while." She finally gives in, as he expected.

They have been so engaged into the conversation that they weren't aware of that the sky is once again turning grey. Suddenly, the thunder breaks out with big rain drops dampening their clothes. Prussia swiftly takes off his coat and throws it to Hungary to cover her body. "Take this." Not letting her refuse him, he promptly grasps her arm and leads her to the near pavilion for a shelter.

She is touched by the consideration of his act, but too shamed to show her gratitude. She notices all the back of his shirt has become transparent, which gives her an excuse to repay him. "Here you go, your shirt is all wet." She hands out her handkerchief. "Thanks." They sit down on each side of the bench to dry themselves. He sneaks a look at her, seeing her twist the long, shining hair. She then looks up innocently, and their eyes meet. He moves away immediately, with his face blushing scarlet. What he doesn't know is that she does the same, too.

After a while, she unexpectedly murmurs. "I wish I were in Hungary right now."  
"…what?" He didn't see that coming.  
"You know, I actually keep dreaming about the scenery in Hungary lately. Budapest,Nagy Alföld …I probably would visit Lake Balaton if I could. I haven't seen any waving water for a long time…" She tries to laugh out but it doesn't work out well.

He pauses, and then grows conscious of what she means. It is obvious that Austria won't let her do so, judging by the current "passive resistance" in Hungary, her move would just initiate more tumults. Lifting his head, he sees her burying her face into her palms. "Maybe I just need to sense something familiar to calm myself down." She states wearily, still hiding her expression from him.

The rain has already stopped, lighting the surrounding a bit more. He can tell that she is falling into depression, and he can't make it up only by verbal encouragement. He hates to see her like this, remaining silent and swallowing bitterness all alone. It withers her energy and beauty, and it is not like the one he knows in their childhood at all.

Without consciousness, he reaches out his arms and pins her head to his chest. She is colder than he thought, as if she was going to fade away with the rain. The fear crawls up to his mind, making him hold her more tightly. "Pr…Prussia…" Her voice shivers.

He determines the idea. "Then let's run away to Lake Balaton. Only two of us."

She titles her head in astonishment. "You… you didn't mean it…"  
"Yes, seriously." This time, she gazes into his deep burgundy eyes, sight blurring vaguely. He puts his hands on her shoulders and says, "Look, it won't take long to get to the border if we hurry; besides, you cannot persuade me that you can make a good recovery in this dull mansion by those words you just spitted out."

She now realizes he is going to take her away, even without her permission.  
"But…but how about Mr. Austria…"  
"Forget about him."  
"Little Italy and Ludwig?"  
"Italy will be fine with Austria and Pasta…I will make arrangements to make sure he is taken good care of by trustful people." She sees him frowning, but from his earnest, she somehow begins to believe his plan is feasible.

"If you insist, then I guess I have no other ways to dissuade you from doing so." She admits with a little delight. "Good. I will write to you as soon as possible and arrange the trip, so you don't need to worry about the details." He grins. "I've got to go back now. Don't miss me too much!" He takes up his coat and makes a swift peck on her forehead. "Whaaaat…." She blushes instantly. "Tschüs!" He flees away and disappears in her sight.

He is truly an idiot, she thinks. But that's why he is so dear to her.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Thank you for reading! This is my debut of English fictions, so please kindly remind me if there are any mistakes :)

1. The Hungarian Revolution of 1848 was leaded by Magyars revolutionist in purpose of establishing a democratic political system with equity and civil rights. Magyar=Hungarian.

2. Wien = Vienna, Nagy Alföld= Great Hungarian Plain

3. "Ja" is the German word for "yeah/yes".

4. Hungary is famous for its embroidery, so I decided to let little Ludwig take the gift!

5. Deutscher Bund is The German Confederation, which is a loose association of 39 German states in Central Europe, created by the Congress of Vienna in 1815 to coordinate the economies of separate German-speaking countries and to replace the former Holy Roman Empire.

6. Tschüs!= Bye!


	2. Chapter 2 The setoff

**2. The setoff**

* * *

Maybe it is a perfect night for a runaway, Hungary thinks.

The night in late spring is not that chill, and the clouds are bulky enough to dim her feature, while she can still identify the surrounding once she acclimatizes to the darkness.

After bidding good night to Austria and Italy, she goes back to her bedroom and takes out her packed luggage. Just things necessary, plus a few formal traveling outfits, she rechecked for the last time, as she recalls the context of letter Prussia sent her three days ago. She waits patiently and leaves her room after the final oil lamp indoors fainted.

Just as she walks out of the mansion by the back door, she almost shrieks when she hears a familiar voice calling. "Is that you, miss?" She turns around and faces to the old man, Mr. Reiter. He has been working here as in charge of the horses and transportation in the mansion for a long time, and he treats her very kindly since she often tries to find some time to visit the stables and take care of horses.

"Good evening, Mr. Reiter." She tries to calm down. "Good evening, miss. What are you doing here in such a late hour?" he asks. "Oh…I, I just found that I left something dear to me in the garden this afternoon before going to bed, so I need to… " She makes an excuse. "Is that so? Then I guess I shall not bother you anymore, miss. Be careful when you go back. I wish you a good night, then." He waves her goodbye. "Thank you, Mr. Reiter." She cheers in mind for her fortune of bumping into someone she's close to instead of others; besides, they have decided to meet at the entrance near the garden, so she won't waste her time pretending to head off to other places.

When Hungary is trotting along the path, the familiar figure emerges in her sight. Prussia is wearing a hat and a dark frock coat –which she can't tell the color–, covering his platinum hair. As her footsteps reach closer to him, he walks upon her directly. "The coachman is waiting on the other side of the road, so let's hurry." He whispers to her ear, and then grabs her hand with his empty one immediately and leads her to the carriage. She is surprised at first, and then calmly grasps his palm later. He feels her strength through the gloves, but not her heat. He wants to see her expression clearly, only to find her hat shadows her feature in the darkness.

When they reach the path where the carriage halts, she recognizes the silhouette by the carriage. "Mr. Reiter!? Why are you here?" She asks in an extreme shock. The coachman only smiles at her. "…oh, please don't tell me you're Gilbert's…"  
"Correct, he is a spy on my side. And he knows "who" we are, too." The old man chuckles out, "I'll always be at your service until we reach the border." She pauses for a second, and then speaks softly, "Thank you, Mr. Reiter." She gives a peck on the old man's hands out of gratitude by holding them up to her face.

After they settle in and the carriage sets off, he and she remain an awkward silence for a moment, but soon loosen the intensity. He perceives that after all this, she is just too exhausted for everything; she relaxes herself for that she is now with the one and only companion, who has been there for her for centuries all along. After a while passing by, she begins to talk.

"Where are we now heading to?" She says. "First, we have to cross the border. We won't get there until dawn, so try to get some sleep during the way." She nods, but still glancing here and there, and not looking in his face. They dwell into another silence. He senses her stillness, which worries him more.

He starts to feel a slice of annoyance because of her neglect, so he decides to confess right now, even though it still kind of embarrasses him. "I have got the identification documents for both of us in case of checkpoints. You're still called by your own name, and we are an engaged couple to visit your relatives since it is bizarre for a young woman travel with a man alone."

Only when she realizes the meaning of his words does she finally turn her sight back to him, with an obvious flush on her cheek.  
"We… we're …" She stammers with embarrassment.  
"Yes, you have unofficially become my fiancée, Elizabeta!" He smirks with a slight red on his face.  
"You arrogant, haughty, arbitrary BASTARD!" She cries out and hastily gives a decent punch on his muscled chest. "Hey that does hurt, woman!" He protests.  
"I'm not even satisfied, moron. I wish I had my frying pan by my side instead of in the luggage…"  
"Wait you bring that, too?"  
"Of course, it's for emergency!" she proclaims.  
He cannot help but bursts out laughter for not only successfully raging her, but also for her vigor which hasn't appeared from that day until just now.

Elizabeta leans back to the velvet seat with her arms folded, and then a small, lazy smile rises from her lips. Her own name was called. I'm still here, she tells to herself. She finds that she feels better, though the carriage is still stumbling along the muddy road, and it is not the only reason why she has had such distress. She moves a bit closer to him and says, "Although you've done so much stupid stuff, I still want to thank you sincerely, Gilbert." He startles for a second because it is the first time she calls his own name for such a long time. "My pleasure." He grins in response.

As they move forward, the moon gradually ascends from the fogs. The moonlight sheds onto the fields and through the window of the carriage. Elizabeta admires the landscape illuminated with the silver luster. The silver, she thinks, just like his hair. Suddenly, a corner of her heart is penetrated with a soft, cozy atmosphere, and she discovers that it comes from the warmth besides her. His warmth. She reaches out her hands to grip his forearm and leans herself against him.

"Whaaaaaat arrre you…" He blushes deeply.  
She glares back at him. "I just get really tired and sleepy right now. Isn't it the duty of a gentleman to take care of his fiancée when she needs support? "  
"…Ja, I think so." He admits it reluctantly.  
"Asides from that, I think you're perfect to be a pillow on such a journey."  
"Hey, don't take me as your…"  
"Just kidding. Because you're warmer than me." She quietly adds, as he notices.

Gilbert, with fading pink around his ears, looks back at his partner. She has already shut her eyelids and her head is perching on his shoulder. He can sense her unique flowery smell. Somehow, her eyelashes sparkle under the moonlight. Facing her, he moves her grasp softtly from his right arm and stretches it out to her thin shoulder, wrapping her tightly to his torso. His left hand folds both her hands onto his lap and hides them in his coat, another brushing her long, wavy hair around her neck slightly with his fingers. Different from the usual, she just lets him and not spits a word. He takes it as a compromised gesture. Maybe he can expect more, as he puts his chin on her forehead and closes his eyes, comfortably cuddling to each other.

"Jó éjszakát , Gil."  
"Gute Nacht, Eliza."

They fall into sleep together, leaving everything behind them.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

I have already determined the main plots and the ending. Hope I can finish this in 1 week.

1. It was not allowed for a young woman from middle-high classes to travel alone during the Victorian era. if with a man, he must be her family member or at least her fiancé (and better with her own maid).

2. Good night.="Jó éjszakát."(HU) = "Gute Nacht." (DE)


	3. Chapter 3 A favor to ask for

**3. A favor to ask for**

* * *

Gilbert didn't have a deep sleep but just a nap. When he gets sober, he gazes at the sky for a moment. The dim of dawn glitters behind the clouds and a few stars glint vaguely. All of it is in a way unreal to him, after so much has occurred. In fact, except for the accommodation along the way until they arrive in Balatonfüred and sufficient money in case, he barely plans anything.

What will they do after the arrival? What does he need to do to help Elizabeta regain her vigor and confidence? How shall he act if they were caught? (Nonetheless, he did order Reiter and some of his subordinates to prepare some baits in order to lead those search teams who are after them to the wrong way and confuse their tracking.) Most vitally, what does she want other than only visiting her homeland indeed? He will do his best to realize whatever her wishes are, but not having strong certainty of their following trip upsets him. He scratches his head roughly to flee away from these thoughts temperately.

The coachman has really devoted himself to his duty, so the sun cannot be seen near the horizon when they reach the border between Austria and Hungary. Gilbert is surprised at how simple they pass through the patrol. When they are stopped by the guards, Reiter is only demanded to show their identity documents, and one guard asks Gilbert to lift the curtain so he can make a glance at the passengers inside, one of who is still in her dream.

Mr. Reiter halts the carriage on one side of road, meeting another coachman waiting for them and bringing him to Gilbert to say farewell. "That's all what I can do for you, sir. I wish you a good journey." He nods. "Thank you." He waves to the old man, as the carriage starts off again.

* * *

At the same time, Elizabeta is awoken by her partner's movements, but she keeps quiet and inclining to Gilbert, as if she was in her deep sleep. Actually, she can't be sure about if it is a fantasy in her head or not. Running away from Austria, going back to motherland, and staying with this Prussian—all of these were so absurd to her before. And now, she has these all done.

She has already decided what she will do after they reach Lake Balaton. She will also deal with those complicated emotions and finally cure her wounds with her own strength. However, she is confused and hesitates about how this journey should end. She definitely won't let Gilbert get involved into her trouble. But he insisted to bring her back home, making it impossible to avoid the consequences.

There is no doubt she appreciates his genuine acts, which shows the bound between them that she has always treasured. Unlike human being, they have their duties to devote to, so they cannot always follow their hearts: she has given up pretending being a boy and changed into dresses for maids to work for Mr. Austria under his roof, accepting his kindness and gentleness as she tried hard to repay him, despite the conflicts between them and their countries; he has left her and devoted himself to wars to build his country, and now he has his little brother to bring up. It is fate they both cannot fight against.

But, despite those facts, he chose to show up at the mansion during her work from time to time (and disturbed Mr. Austria, she clinches her teeth), which comforted her in some way since she could once again to act unlike a lady, sharing the memories of their childhood of hunting in forests and fighting on the battle fields with him. Furthermore, he made this trip indeed happen, and it hence reassures his earnest friendship to her, making her feel pure happiness without compromise.

On the other hand, she gradually grows scared of their relationship. As being human forms of countries, they cannot own a life like a normal person. They are partners, enemies, friends, and family to each other. But to her particularly, there is an invisible line between them, which she is afraid to across; but every time she meets him, there will be a small voice in a corner of her heart to urge her to act more fearlessly. This kind of affection only deepens as their journey continues.

* * *

When the morning light glares more and more, Elizabeta moves a bit in order to give Gilbert a signal of her being awake.

"Jó reggelt kívánok, Gil." She gives him a smile.  
"Guten Morgen, Eliza." He lets go of her shoulder.

He watches her yawn, stretch out her body, open the window, and bend over the window sill. The breeze blows the fresh smell of grass in the fields into the carriage, her honey-blond hair flowing softly. They both take a deep breath to feel the clean air filling their lungs.

When the sun appears on the horizon, she turns around and points the rising sun to him excitedly like a child. "Look, it's the sunrise!" Though it is not something special, he has to admit that the scenery is quite fabulous. He notices she becomes more energetic and joyful after they step on the land of Hungary, which pleases him because she looks stunning and beautiful in the daybreak.

"So, what's next of our trip?" She raises the question.  
"Oh, we're going to Raab to buy some food to feed ourselves on the way, and then head off to Budapest to stay there for one night. We start off directly to Balatonfüred tomorrow morning." He explains to her.  
"Raab?...you mean Győr?"She is often confused about the German names the Austrians use.  
"Ja, I forgot the Hungarian name."  
"How long will it take?"  
"We should be in town in the evening, and it takes about 10 hours from Budapest to Balatonfüred."

She thinks about the whole plan for a while, and then asks, "…wouldn't it be dangerous if they find out that I'm in the city, not to mention in my capital?"

He notices that she only used "they" to refer to all those people who are now probably searching anxiously for them, including Roderich. He doesn't really know why, but he feels a guilty pleasure by taking Elizabeta away from his rival. Every time he sees them together, he becomes annoyed-alright, jealous probably-all the time. That's why he will later pick on that aristocrat and get beaten by her frying pan.

"Well, the awesome me has already set some tricks to lure them to think we're going north to other places instead of Hungary; besides, we will always leave and arrive at night or dawn, so the dim will blur their sight! I'm so awesome!" He lavishes praise on himself, and eases her nerves."…Is that so?" To his surprise, she didn't beat him or scold at his ego. "You can only trust me, or what else can we do?" A little while later, she nods lightly. "…yeah, you're right."

A dazzler forms on her lips, leading him to start wondering about her unusual behavior. She has been obeying his will without dismay since they left Wien. Moreover, she is acting gentle to him like a maiden (He doesn't think her frying pan will make her more feminine or domestic, never.) Actually, he has always been eager to see her girlish, soft side to him when they are alone, though he never considers seriously about his reason. And when it does come true now, he feels a little weird, but still happy. What makes her act like this? He wonders. And why do I find it so sweet yet a little dangerous?

He kind of wants to run away from this luring thought, so he changes the subject.  
"And what are you going to do in Hun…"  
She instantly interrupts his sentence. "Gilbert, I want to ask you a favor." She suddenly raises her voice.  
"Okay, what is it?"  
"Can I just be Elizabeta Héderváry until we arrive at Lake Balaton?"

His eyes widen. "What do you mean, Eliza?"  
"I promise to tell you what I plan to do after we get there. Before that, I want to just enjoy our trip, and I hope you to do the same, just as if we were normal people. Would you? " He finds her emerald eyes begging him hopefully.

He ponders for a moment. As if we were normal people. The sentence echoes in his mind. Miraculously, he discovers that he wishes to do the same too for a long time. Forget about the political stuff; forget about the cruel reality. Even just for now. The idea haunts him.

"So, I'm only Gilbert Beilschmidt, who comes from Prussia?"  
"Yes, exactly." She answers.  
"Okay, but on one condition." He shows her a serious look on purpose.  
"What condition?" She looks at him with doubt.  
"We must behave like a couple, so others won't be suspicious."  
She leans her head. "That means…"  
"That means you must do what you should as my fiancée, so you should always listen to what I say." He grins immensely.  
"Huh?! You stupid…" She raises her voice.  
"Or else I will keep bothering you to say your little secret until you can't stand anymore." He grins at his success of playing tricks on her.

"…fine. Deal." She consents.  
"Oh, give up so easily?"  
"Well, the wind is still on my side since a gentleman cannot do anything IMPROPER to his dear fiancée or THREATEN her to do what she dislikes. Isn't that correct?" She smirks.  
"Ah! No..."  
"Yes, you idiot!" He wrinkles his face and gets upset about himself, while she bursts out delightful giggles, which makes him later laugh with her. She makes a proud expression for her small victory by defeating him with his own scheme, reminding him of their play time in childhood and pulling him back together in their good old dreams.

Though the sunshine through the window glass has warmed them up, he leans closer to her a little more and brings her soft hand to his lap when she doesn't notice.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Yes, they are finally in Hungary! From now on, the story will move on to the main core.

This is my first time to write a long story in English, and I'm not sure whether my writing style can be easily adapted. Some of you may find I don't write dialogues so often and spend much time on their thoughts or moves, which is not so easy to get used to. It is because that in my opinion, Eliza and Gill are so close to each other that they can somehow understand each other without words spoken. Besides, writing this novel is like shooting a movie in my mind, so I want the scenes are vivid and loyal to the reality enough. (, which is also why I will add some notes about the historic background at the end of every chapter.)

1. I didn't have time to do research about the borderlines between Austria and Hungary during that time, so I kind of cheated by writing simply about the checkpoint.

2."Jó reggelt kívánok." = "Guten Morgen." = "Good morning."


	4. Chapter 4 A normal day

**4. A normal day**

* * *

Elizabeta holds the basket as if they were going the picnic, while Gilbert escorts her and makes deals. When doing the shopping, Gilbert has neither difficulty to have conversations with vendors or shopkeepers, nor was he not able to read those signs and tags in Hungarian.

To "them", foreign languages in different countries are never problems. In fact, "they" can understand every kind of language people speak. They can talk and write to one another as they like to; to the normal people, what they speak or write are the languages of their native tones. Maybe it is a convenient design to let them communicate more easily, since that they belong to such a special kind and are such a small group. If the hindrance of various languages existed, then loneliness may actually kill them.

After acquiring enough food and drinks at the market and the grocery store in Győr, they don't waste their time lingering in town but fasten their pace to Budapest, "the pearl of the Danube". Out of dullness, Elizabeta proposes a game. "Hey, let's think about who we should be!" She announces briskly. "I don't get it." He stares at her with an uncertain look. "I mean, since we are only normal people now, we should decide something like what we do, how many family members we have, how we met and so on." She lists. "Hmm, that sounds interesting. Let's do it!"

Through long debates and discussion, they decide that they knew each other at a summer resort with their families in Hungary when they were little; he has a little brother, and his mother died at his young age; she is the oldest child in her family, and was such a tomboy in her childhood; they met again in Austria while he was studying at medical school and she was learning singing with a soprano in Wien. She thinks they are engaged for the two families' mutual interests, while he insists they do it out of passion and sincerity. They start to make up many details, and then rehearse seriously in case, so if any other travelers or guards asked them about their identities or purpose to visit Hungary, they wouldn't stammer or show loopholes. They treat this matter so earnestly that they almost believe themselves.

At noon, they share the delicious food in the basket; in the afternoon, they take a nap leaning against each other. Other time, they just talk and argue about trivial matters. It is so simple, yet this is the time they have never owned before. The carriage blocks them from the outside world, leaving the two in their own utopia clinging to each other and sharing their deepest feelings, as if it was always so.

* * *

They finally arrive in Budapest in the evening. Elizabeta cannot help but feel desperately excited and energetic once she enters the capital. The night in Budapest seems mysterious yet vital. Despite the revolutions not long ago, people here still remain optimistic and try to find happiness in daily life. She is charmed by her native land: the air in the streets, the smell from the market, the music at the pubs. She greedily swallows everything she senses and burns the impression and atmosphere into her memory.

They stay in an inn near the main boulevards where transportation is easily accessible. Gilbert has reserved two separate bedrooms, where there is an inner door between, so they don't have to use the front doors if tending to meet each other. There is a pub on the ground floor, so they can have dinner without going out. Elizabeta orders the traditional cuisines, including goulash, paprika chicken with Nokedli, Csabai szalámi and Stefánia szele. Gilbert is surprised to find out her appetite almost as big as his, though he admits the long trip in a carriage consumes one's energy simply. They also order some wine like Egri Bikavér and beer, but he insists the German ones are much better, which leaves him a heavy step on his foot from her in response.

The inn is very thriving with local customers and travelers, and a few ones start to strike up conversations with them. In a corner sits a middle-aged man who is playing ballads with his violin, and two maidens are dancing some folk dance. After the applause from the audience is over, one of the girls walk to Elizabeta. "Would you like to join us, miss?" She invites her passionately. "What are you going to dance at the next round?" She asks enthusiastically. "We're dancing Karikázó, so we need more companions. It'll be fun!" The girl encourages her. "I'm happy to!"

Karikázó is a dance performed only by women and their singing. The other people at the pub also notice this pretty small group and cheer for them. The maiden gather a small circle and start to sing. The voices flow softly in the air, accompanied by. Gilbert is particularly enthralled by Elizabeta's nimble movements, which elaborates her as a fairy singing in the woods, and he is not able to look away from her.

The pub blasts with claps when the maidens are finished their performance, and then some young men walks in to join them for a different new dance. As Gilbert is about to pour another cup of beer, Elizabeta rushes upon him hastily.  
"Gilbert, come dance with us!"  
"Wait! I know no a damn about you Hungarian dances… "  
She drinks up a shot and faces him with pink clouds on cheeks. 'Just watch and learn, it's easy! Besides, aren't you always showing off about how awesome at everything?"  
"But…"  
"Oh, I get it. You're just scared of making scene." She makes fun of him.  
"Of course not!"  
"Then come with me!" She grabs his arm and pulls him into the crowd.

The people are now dancing Csárdás, which requires both male and female dancers. After catching up with the basic tempo and steps, Gilbert notices an intriguing feature in their dance. Although being as a group, their steps, turns, movement, postures, all are arbitrary, designed by the taste and genius of the dancers. The dance does not consist of regular well-defined steps, but an individual dance inspired by extemporization. These brisker movements of the dance retained that peculiarity which is the feature of all Hungarian dances. Consequently, he loosens himself and enjoys the delight of following his heart, since that the right of the dancer to improvise according to his talent and mood.

They whirl swiftly round, two or three times, and then, breaking away, recommence the pantomime as before. One seldom sees two couples performing exactly the same figure at the same time. While two separated partners are doing their step with their backs turned on one another, another couple between them is spinning round in the ecstasies of reunion.

Gilbert discovers that vitality animates Elizabeta with rare beauty. To him, she rays in the crowd and music. When she swirls, her blue dress spreads like a blooming blossom; when she steps, her cape waves like a fluttering butterfly. When they dance as a couple, he can even feel the shivers like electricity flowing over his body. They keep drinking during breaks and starting another round of dance until it is already one past midnight and all energy is dried up.

* * *

When Gilbert and Elizabeta go back to their seats and take a rest, she falls on him half asleep and half drunk, so he bids the others farewell and carries her bridal style back to her room. She moans lightly and hiccups a bit as he lifts her up in his arms. She is really drunk, and she is never a good drinker, he thinks.

He lays her down to the bed and takes off her flower garnishment in her hair to make her cozy on the pillow. She opens her eyes wearily and asks him, "Today is wonderful, isn't it?"  
"Yes, it is."  
"Did you have fun?"  
"How could the awesome me not?"  
"Good, I'm glad you did." She giggles and folds his hands in hers with the smile staying on her face, which stops his heart beats for a second.

Gott, she is astonishingly pretty and glamorous tonight. In his mind, he wishes to show the world how charming she is, and yet he only wants to treasure her beauty by himself as his own secret to prevent others from stealing her away. The paradox confuses him more and more, making him want to get away from her before he does something irrationally. But what on earth is he going to do to her?

"Hey, I'm calling the mistress to help you change and get to bed. We still have a long way tomorrow. Good night, then… " However, she doesn't give up on her grasp. "What?" He turns around. "Gil, I feel I'm just totally like them today. Like those normal people." A moment later, he speaks in a low voice. "…me, too." He sits down on her bedside. Yes, it is a normal, happy day, and somehow, it persuades him to wonder how it would be if she and he were living this kind of life.

He gazes at her, and she looks into his eyes, smiling wearily. Their sights lock in the middle of the air for a long time. The next moment, he touches her lips softly with his. The kiss tastes like warm milk plus honey, with sweet alcohol she just drank and the flowery aroma she always owns. it is then he realizes that he desires someone so much for the first time. Being a female, she is all what he wants to pursue and to own, just like a man to a woman as human being. He puts his hand on her shoulder, the other holding her head up on the back of her neck and twirling her wavy hair.

She stiffens in a shock, but soon becomes paralyzed by the gentleness and the power in his movements. The oil lamp on the night table faints, leaving them an absolute silence except their breaths.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

I wish I had clearly revealed the difficult strife between human senses/souls and country identities, which Eliza and Gil own as entities at the same time. They are not complete human beings in my story, so they have to try hard to get accustomed to their affections and feelings that they are not familiar with, as they grow gradually inseperatable from each other. From a point of view, you can say that they're just like teenagers.

If you find the words unfamiliar to you, just google them. (Most are Hungarian.)


	5. Chapter 5 On the road

**5. On the road**

* * *

Gilbert didn't sleep much last night (or this early morning). Speaking more concisely, he could not lose his consciousness until the dawn.

_What have I done? _He kept asking himself.

He kissed her. KISS.

All he could recall was that just as he wanted to shorten the distance between them, she seemed to stop moving. Only when he finally got back to his feet from the long attachment on her lips, did he discover that she fell asleep already. And then, he realized what he had done. He jumped away from her bed swiftly. He felt all his blood rushing into his head, which steamed his face with incredibly boiling hotness.

_Please tell me what I should do next, Old Fritz. _He prays to his great king in his mind. He doesn't know how to face her tomorrow in the following journey.

* * *

Before Gilbert is awoken by the knock on the front door, the church bell has rung 8 times.

"Argh, coming!" he yawns in exhaust. When he opens the door, it is Elizabeta in person, who is standing at the porch with her arms crossed. "Eeeelizaaa!? Whaaaat…" Considering what has happened, perhaps this is the day he's going to heaven to meet Old Fritz.

"Aren't you ready yet? The coachman just came up to ask if we're going." She yells at him.  
"What time is it?"  
"Half past 8."  
"We're that late? Oh, no!"  
"Not we, only you!" Her rage stings him.  
"Alright, give me 30 minutes!"

Before he goes changing, he turns around and stares at her.  
"What?"  
"Nothing…um, did you sleep well last night?"  
She looks at him doubtfully, and answers with some hesitation. "Well, I think so. Actually, I only remember I kept spinning and tapping, and the next moment I was tucked in the blankets. Was there something wrong?"  
"NO, no. Nothing special." He shakes his head nervously.  
"I'll wait for you in the carriage. You take your own luggage." Fortunately, she doesn't seem to know about the kiss.  
"Got it."

Just act as usual. He pets his face to extent himself

* * *

Another long day in a rumbling carriage begins. After gorging some sausages and bread in the basket, Gilbert soon sank into his big sleep with slight snoring, inclining to the window.

What a foolish face, Elizabeta thinks. She pokes his cheek with her index finger, and there is no reaction. She covers her mouth to lower her laughter. She props her jaw with elbows on her lap, observing her neighbor. The sunshine dyes his platinum hair with a golden layer, making him more like the adult version of Ludwig. His skin is a little paler compared to hers. Though reluctantly, she has to say he looks more handsome and mature when being silent.

Elizabeta starts to feel guilty about her lie. She did recall what was next after being carried on to bed. This was her first kiss, although she isn't sure if it was also his first time. To some extent, she seduced him; yet still, it was more like a mutual wish to her. When she woke up alone this morning, she finally was able to understand what that invisible line between them is. She should have stayed at her side, but she didn't. Nevertheless, he reacted as if nothing had happened, which saddens her in some way. Was he only too drunk? Did he mean it? She is confused by her reflection.

But all these doubts can only hide in her mind. She doesn't know what she—and her country— would come up to if she told the truth to Gilbert. Furthermore, she is too afraid to hear his answer. Whether "yes" or "no", it would only harm her heart or her country. And she is never able to split them up.

At least, they haven't reached Lake Balaton. Not yet. She still has some time for her own sake.

Forgive me for my caprice, Isten.

A crisp crush interrupts her pondering. It was the Prussian who hit the window due to a huge bump of the carriage. After a while, she stretches out her arm and pulls his head onto her lap, closing her eyes for a peaceful rest.

* * *

_A black-and-white picture of a couple. That's what in his hand now. The photography has become a popular developing business recently, but he didn't know it can portray people so well even without colors. In the picture sits a woman in an arm chair and stands a man beside her. They are both in formal dresses. The man seems to have a light color since it is almost white on the picture. He looks young because he doesn't grow beard or mustache, but still determined; the woman smiling like an innocent maiden owns long, wavy hair, and a blossom perches near her temple._

_Next, voices of a kid and a female pass to his ear from the back. He turns around and strides to them. The female is teaching the kid how to sing a song. The kid has short blond hair and blue eyes and is holding a toy bear, which remind him of someone familiar. They appear like mother and child. Then, a male appears behind the pair to surprise them and raises the kid high up to the sky like a father who is so proud of his son. The three are all chuckling with happiness, which ensures him that they are a family of joy._

_After a moment, he discovers that the couple in the picture are the father and mother of this small family, whose features are more mature now. For a moment, he feels as if he was that father in front of him. Then, he perceives that he is never going to gain such happiness, no matter how much he tries. it is only a dream of illusion._

_The scene before him vanishes into emptiness little by little. The warm and yet melancholy atmosphere fulfills his heart. What he isn't aware of is that he will never remember this dream._

* * *

When Gilbert comes back to reality again, his world is upside down. He looks up and finds himself on the Hungarian, who is in her nap. He sits up immediately and awkwardly, trying to figure out what caused this situation, but soon misses her temperature. He attempts to seek what he just dreamed of in his head, but it ends in vain. As he glances at his neighbor's face, the night in Budapest flashes back in his mind.

He doesn't regret kissing her. He believed he would, but he didn't. In fact, he was kind of glad he did it. He wants to be the closest person to her body and to her soul, and he vaguely senses this affection does not come from being a country. Since their childhood, she (alright, "he" to the little him) has always been the best partner and loyal friend, and no one can replace her. Even when they grow up and apart, she remains his one and only. Maybe that is why he gets pissed off when he sees her with that pansy Roderich. He is jealous of him being with her every day, while he can only try to interrupt them in limited time. Yes, jealousy does kill a man. He sure knows kissing a friend is queer, but when she is more than just a friend or a partner, what else can he do to express his feelings to her?

He might really lose his way, if now he wasn't here now by her side.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

An interlude for reflection and dreams.


	6. Chapter 6 Names in memory

**6. Names in memory**

* * *

_Balatonfüred, Lake Balaton_

Gilbert has arranged the accommodation at a decent inn in Balatonfüred, which is the largest town on northern shore of Lake Balaton. The elegant Baroque and traditional designs are scattered on the streets. The mineral water springs offer natural spas for the wealthy, high-class visitors a pleasant resort in holidays or for recuperation, making it one of the best summer resorts across the country. Since Hungary is an inland country, the areas around Lake Balaton, the largest lake in Central Europe, are taken as seashores for entertainment.

The inn they stay at is called Egykori Nagyvendéglő, which started its business since 18th century, and has expanded the operation thanks to the growing demand for spa therapy and the following catering and lodging in this town. The inn offers 52 guest rooms and a mass, luxury restaurant at the top of the elegant, marble-white building. There are also a coffee shop, a dance hall, and a section of entertainment for bath and other pleasures. Unfortunately, they arrived in town very late at night, and the beautiful architectures and scenery were all veiled by mist and nocturnal shades.

The layout of their suit is similar to the one they stayed at in Budapest, only more capacious and more luxury. In the morning, Elizabeta ordered the waiter to send breakfast directly to her room, so they eat separately. When Gilbert enters her room, he notices that she has been working on many slips of paper. He asks her what she is planning to do in Balatonfüred.

"I want a sail on Lake Balaton." She announces.

"A sail?" He frowns.  
"Yes, but it only requires a small boat spacious enough for two of us and the boatman."  
"That's easy. We can find one after lunch."  
"Good." After Elizabeta finishes her work, she collects all the slips into her knitted bag, which is stuffed with dried tulip petals she's brought with all along the journey.

* * *

The couple strolls on the path along the lake shore arm in arm in order to find a suitable place for their picnic. Although the real summer hasn't come yet, they do not look peculiar here. Couples, families, kids, even some pets are roaming along the paths near the shore and streets in town. After they find a green field in a park near the lake, they share the food, sitting and lying down for a rest. The sky is clear with cottony clouds flowing peacefully.

"Have you ever missed somebody who has passed away long ago very much?" She raises the question.  
"Hmm, ja. I often dream about Old Fritz. And you?"  
"So do I. I miss those great heroes and bosses, like our father Árpád (Árpád apánk), particularly when I feel lonely. He was the one who taught me how to fight and hunt. He treated me as his own kids." She looks away in the direction of the lake, while he is observing her expression.  
Then, he says, "You know, France has told me once about Jeanne d'Arc when he was drunk as dead."  
"That pervert with too much amour?" He chuckles.  
"Ja. I think that little girl really meant something important to him."

She appears in disbelief first, but soon relaxes back to normal."I guess it is all the same to us. We have to face far more births and deaths than the others and learn to get used to it, don't we?" She gives him a lonesome smile.

They rent a boat at and sail on the lake. Lake Balaton is a freshwater lake in the Transdanubian region of Hungary. The microclimate around Lake Balaton has also made the region ideal for viniculture. The lake, acting as a mirror, greatly increases the amount of sunlight that the grapevines of the region receive. The winds along with the tides are so strong that the trees along the shores are forced to bend.

While the boatman is doing the preparation, Elizabeta pats Gilbert on his shoulder. "Hey, can you stay in silence while we're sailing on the boat?"  
"Oh, you don't want to speak with the awesome me?" He jokes.  
"Stop being so silly, moron. I'm going to hold a ritual."  
He stiffens. "On the boat? For what?"

He catches a meaningful glance from her."For commemoration and condolence." She says in a persistent tone.

It is then he realizes all of a sudden why she spoke about the subject previously, and her real motive of this trip. That's why we're here, he explains to himself.

* * *

Gilbert holds her hand to help her get on the floating boat. The depth of the lake is not that large with the average scale of 3 meters, so the water appears peculiarly light and clean. While the boat is sailing further and further away from the shore, Elizabeta stands up and moves to the boat's bow. Even though she is discouraged by the boatman, she doesn't listen and remains a perfect balance there.

Gilbert keeps his gaze upon her as she takes out a Catholic rosary and begins to pray in a soft, low voice. Her side face is covered by her stands of hair when a strong wind pounces on them. The sunlight in the mid-afternoon inlays a golden veil on the surface of Lake Balaton; the lake glints as the waves tide up and down. Gilbert lifts one hand to hide from the sparkles, while Elizabeta doesn't.

Instead, she opens the small bag she's always bringing with and takes out what inside. Until then discovers Gilbert that these are the slips she was writing on this morning. The layers of her swinging dress and perseverance in her eyes shape her like a goddess in legends, forcing him into an awe of admiration.

From the corner of his eyes, he can tell some famous names on the slips: except from the famous prince Árpád or Hunyadi Mátyás, there are also names he knows and does not. He also finds some names of those revolutionists revolting not long ago: Lajos Kossuth, István Széchenyi, Sándor Petőfi, Józef Bem, and so on. Some are banished out of the country; some stay to work for the government; and some have already passed away. For a second, he even believes he saw a term called "April laws". Those people have stood out and fought what they believe and pursuit. To "them", people come to this world and leave in a blink. However, their accomplishments affect the others magnificently, both their offspring and "the countries".

Elizabeta leaves a light kiss on each slip, and then she throws it with the petals, letting them being blown and gone with the wind. She continues these steps relentlessly. Under the sun, all the slips and petals become small, black dots due to the shadows, and in the end vanish in the horizon far, far away. A sudden relief abruptly occupies Gilbert's heart. He feels all the yearn to those who he once accompanied and admired is carried away, which brings him peace and serenity.

When the sacred ritual is over, Elizabeta finally sits back to her seat, wrapping arms around her knees and staring at the lake blankly in daze. Gilbert swears he caught a drop shining in her orbit when she blinked. Nevertheless, he doesn't do anything about it.

Beyond the boat, the swans are sliding elegantly on the lake surface, and they can only hear the waves lapping against the shore.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

1. Egykori Nagyvendéglő is the former of the Anna Grand Hotel in Balatonfüred( .hu/), and here is an introduction of its history and pictures in Hungarian: .


	7. Chapter 7 The night with tears

**7. The night with tears**

* * *

Elizabeta has caught a cold.

On their way back to the inn, she kept sneezing and having cold sweat, and her cheeks and nose turned into steaming scarlet, which were signs of a fever. The doctor left them some medicine and told him she shall be okay after a good sleep.

After the shower and supper alone, Gilbert takes the nursing work from the maid and waits patiently by her bedside. When Elizabeta wakes up, it is already after midnight, and he is dozing in the chair. She tries to sit up and see him more clearly, rustling the blankets and awakening him.

"Feeling better now?" He leans forward to her, measuring her temperature by his hand on her forehead.

"…Gil? Are you there?"  
"Yes, I'm here."  
"Stay."  
"I'll be here until you fall asleep again, so close your eyes and try to relax, alrig..."  
"NO. Stay here tonight. With me."

She grasps his sleeve desperately, like a drowning person clutching at a drifting wood. Then, big drops of tears pour down on her face, dampening the blanket. It is the first time she cries in front of him since that rainy day back in Wien, which truly shocks him.

Nevertheless, he pulls her onto his chest by instinct and wraps an arm around her waist firmly, another consoling her back to comfort her. In their childhood, they always did this to each other when sadness stroke them. She weeps in silence, but he can tell how drastically she cries by the speed which the tear is running down his shirt at.

They remain that position not knowing for how long. He withdraws a bit and lifts her delicate jaw in order to wipe out the tears on her eyelashes by his fingers. She holds his right hand to her left cheek and closes her eyes.

"Don't leave."  
"I won't."  
"Don't leave me."  
"No, I won't."  
"Don't leave me alone."  
"...no. Never."

Suddenly, she clinches him onto the bed. A minute later, she brings his right hand from her cheek, passing her neck, her collar bone, to her pounding heart. His fingers tremble with fear and ecstasy by the warmth and softness of her skin through her beige night gown. She pins his palm on her heart tightly and then stops moving. Her heart beats directly pass through his vine to his arm his torso, his heart. Magically, he discovers his heart now beats at the same tempo as hers, as if they were initially born as one and never teared apart.

Her eyes flutter again, and he knows instantly that means she feels it as well. The emerald gazes into the burgundy, pleading helplessly yet stubbornly. She won't let me refuse, he thinks. Under the dim from the fireplace, he is inevitably enchanted by the mysteriously glittering golden green and cannot move his sight from her. Not to mention that I want her to be mine, too.

He loosens his left arm from her waist and snakes it to her shoulder. Slowly, his fingers crawl onto the collar of her gown and start to unbutton it carefully. She lets go of his right palm, lowering her head and watching him do so. After the gown slides down, he begins to untie her corset, which he actually sees and touches—and it is now worn by a girl—for the first time. She gasps a little, but still doesn't stop him and winds her arms around his neck to take the vest and shirt off him. After that, he gently removes her petticoat and her chemise, revealing her naked, smooth skin. She withdraws to the bed a bit more to let him top over her. All of the movements are processed at an extreme low pace with softness and care as if the other one is so vulnerable; yet they can still sense the hidden passion and desire from long time ago.

He lays her down on the pillows and buries his lips into her neck, smelling her fragrance, as her hair flows on the sheet like a silk fan. He can feel her fingernails stinging him on his spine. He holds her head in both hands and leads his way to her lips, while her hands are brushing his neck and ears. This time, the kiss is much stronger and more ardent than their first one, and they can merely gasp during short breaks. Now, he truly and thoroughly understands what a couple really is.

The last sparkle jumps out of ashes in the fireplace, the couple sinking into dense darkness.


	8. Chapter 8 Miracles

**8. Miracles**

* * *

Gilbert is disturbed by the rain and wind whirling outside the window. The weather is not unusual, because sufficient vapors arising from the lake moisturizes the air, bringing more rain and fertility to this area.

When his eyelids flicker open, strands of wavy hair bump into his sight. No wonder it is so warm even though I'm naked. His right hand's fingers are tangling with her left one's, perching in the middle of the pillows. It is so fresh and curious to him: before last night, he blushed at any slightest intimate touches and sensitive words from or about Elizabeta; now, he can watch her in the nude with calmness and peace.

He reaches out his empty hand to move her bangs away from her forehead, drawing invisible lines on her brows, her eyes, her nose, and to her lips. When he touches the pink petals, she lets out a faint sight and her green eyes sparkles again.

"Jó reggelt kívánok, Gil."  
"Guten Morgen, Eliza."

She clings to him like a small animal huddling up in his embrace for warmth, so he sits up a little bit to let her lie on his chest..

"It's raining." She murmurs.  
"Ja, it's going to be a bad day."

She sneezes. He wraps her with the blanket.  
"Are you sure you're feeling better?"  
"Yes, don't worry."  
They cuddle to each other closer.

"What are we doing today?" She asks.  
"I don't know. We can stay here all day, if you want to." He plays with her hair stands near her temple.

Later, she asks him in a soared tone. "Do you remember how you were brought to this world?"  
He tries to recall. "Not quite. I only have a faint memory of some lights from far away. The next moment, I was standing on a hill, looking down the fields and woods. And you? "  
"Well, I think the moment I woke up, I was in a big tent where the smells of food and grass floated in the air. That's all what I know." She mumbles in a nostalgic voice.

"It is so strange, isn't it?" She comments. "What is strange?" He holds up her hand and rubs her nails. "You see, we came to this world in a human form, and yet we just suddenly appear and start our life, without a mother, a father, or family." He contemplates for a while, and then says, "Probably. But in my opinion, it's the God's will."

"God's will?" She looks up.  
"Ja. The one who creates us. That's why we are so different from the others." Then, he adds. "At least that's what I believe."

A silence falls.

"…so, you don't think that 'the countries' will have children, neither?" She extends the subject. "…no, I don't think so. Besides, who would those kids be if it did happen? They might become national problems, or they just replace their parents…" A while later, she says, "…yeah, we should be glad that we don't have ability to give birth to a new life."

He can't see her expression clearly from his angle, but he perceives some loneliness from her tone. "Are you sad about it, Eliza?" He puts his jaw on her shoulder. "…I don't know. I'm just a little confused. We own so much, just like normal people, and yet, we are deprived of something so important to human beings." She whispers. "Maybe that is the price of living so long and unchanged appearance of youth." This is the best answer he can think of.

Though it is still raining, the sunshine has gradually penetrated through the clouds and lightened the sky. However, neither of them wants to leave the bed.

"Have you ever heard folk stories about vampires?" A new topic comes from her.  
"The creature with fangs, flying like bats and hiding in Eastern Europe? I guess I have. Why ask?"  
She shakes her head. "Nothing, just a sudden thought."

They dwell into another silence.

"Gil."  
"Ja?"  
"Sometimes, I really think we're just like vampires, except we can't fly and we don't drink blood for a living." Vampires don't grow old and won't die except they disappear under certain circumstances. They do share similarities.  
"Well, if they really exist, I feel sorry for them." He claims.  
"Why say that?"  
"They look weird, and they would be extirpated by clergymen."  
She giggles. "Maybe. But, at least they are free."

Free. What a word, he thinks. Those philosophers have been debated about whether humans have or act by their "free will". Animal instincts exist in every kind of livings, and it can never be guaranteed that no other forces are manipulating the thoughts or impulses in sub consciousness. Does ultimate freedom really exist?

"I'd rather not. Sucking human's blood and escaping successfully are so troublesome." He speaks in a light tone jokingly, which makes her laugh. Still, he believes at least his heart is free to feel.

"Eliza."  
"Hmm?"  
He lies down and embraces her closer. "It's a miracle that we are together here, now. I thank God to have you by my side."  
"Same to me. We should treasure it." She presses her ear on his heart.

They fall asleep again while listening to the sound of rain outside the window.


	9. Chapter 9 Choices

**9. Choices**

* * *

After getting up, Gilbert helps Elizabeta get dressed, because she cannot deal with those buttons and the corset all by herself. "Why don't you just call the maid?" He asks. "Seeing us like this? How embarrassing…" She mumbles shyly. "Who cares. It would happen to a couple in the end anyway. It's only that we skipped the wedding." He grins widely. "You, shameful, jerk!" With a heavy blush on cheek, she punches in his stomach.

While Gilbert is howling with pain, Elizabeta sits at the vanity and begins to comb her hair. Her hair always inevitably becomes frizzed in the morning. "I think I should cut it short. It takes me so much time to fix every morning." He throws a glance at her. "…don't do that." "Why can't I?" "Because I like your hair this way." She blushes a little. "…But this is really tiring sometimes."

He takes the comb from her hand without asking. "Then I'll help you. Is this stuff really that annoying?" He picks up her long hair.  
"Be careful with my hair! And don't pull when it gets stocked with knots. It will hurt my scalp!" She warns him.  
"Yes, yes, princess." When he lifts up the bottom part of her hair, he discovers some red marks on the back of her neck. The vivid memory of last night flashes back in his mind, which makes him force himself really hard to focus on the comb again.

To her surprise, he brushes her hair very patiently and even more than she does, which shames her more. To distract herself, she speaks to the man behind her.  
"You men must have a long-hair complex. Why don't you just grow yours long?"  
He doesn't look up. "Don't ask me. I simply think it suits you well." He makes response blankly.  
"Don't fawn on me with that sweet talk." She crosses her arms, but still looks happy.

When all done, she looks into the mirror and notices his cravat is not on his collar. "Where is your cravat?"  
"Oh, on the pillow."  
Then, she comes up with an idea. "Let me help you with that."  
"Do you know how to knot it?" He asks skeptically.  
"I've seen Mr. Roderich do this many times." He stops to move.  
"…many times?"  
"I think so. He's always dazed when he gets up, so I often have to help him find a cravat to wear."  
"…whatever." He scratches his head.  
"…jealous?" She suddenly asks.  
"The Hell no!" He shouts, but she can recognize his bashful tone.

She hums lightly and ties his cravat up.  
"Okay, it's done." She pats his chest.  
"Thanks."  
"You're welcome." He still looks unsatisfied.  
"What's wrong?" She asks.

"Well…" He hesitates.  
"What?"  
"Uh…did…did he…ever… touch you?" His voice is so low that she barely hears the last few words.  
"What do you mean…" But when she sees his face burning like an apple, she soon gets it.  
"How dare you ask me such a question! " She steps back and looks really pissed off, which scares him.  
"No, I just…"  
"Besides, you might have already done this with other women…" She interrupts him instantly with a bitter face.  
"Huh? Why would you think so?"  
"…Never mind. You men are all the same…"  
"Are you jealous?"

Suddenly, she pushes him out of her room and locks the inner door. "Elizabeta!" He calls her and knocks the door several times, but she ignores him, so he can only lean on the door to wait for her reaction. A while later, she finally speaks, "…No one had ever touched me, you fool."

They often say a woman is a beautiful mess, and he starts to understand what it means. "…Neither had I with others. Happy now?" "…" She maintains silent. He has no way but surrenders to her persitency. "Okay, I apologize. I'm sorry I asked such a stupid question. Can you open this door now?"

When he hears her unlock the door, he takes a step in immediately and hugs her tightly, ignoring her protest.

* * *

The pair stays in their suit all day: eating, chatting, arguing, just as when they were in the carriage before. They even take down the swords as garnishments on the wall in the capacious suit and have a serious dual. (Elizabeta pretends to get hurt in order to loosen Gilbert's alert, and she wins the dual by her small trick.)

Nevertheless, Gilbert is aware of that they are both avoiding certain subjects, which are important to them. He knows he can't act the same as before after last night, but Elizabeta seems to insist doing so. Besides, he has no idea what he or she is going to do after such an enormous change. Still, he pretends as if he didn't notice it.

When the night falls and the sky becomes clear again, Elizabeta invites Gilbert to go outside for a walk. They wander around the town and do not have a planned destination. After the rain, the air becomes fresher but lightly cold. The warm light from the beautiful villas and mansions embellishes the sidewalks during the night.

However, they walk side by side with a subtle distance between them rather than arm in arm, and she stays a bit ahead of him. The pair hasn't spoken to each other since they left the inn. The delicate atmosphere suffocates him, yet he can do nothing about it but only observe the silhouette of her back. In fact, he has an ace in his hand, but it will only trap himself as well. None of them wants to discuss about the future, and both of them know it's just a useless postpone.

While Gilbert is still struggling with those thoughts, Elizabeta stops without a warning. "Did you hear the sound over there?"  
He titles his head. "What sound?"  
"Shhh, listen. The sound from the lake."  
He listens carefully. "…Is that a steaming boat?"  
The steaming boat is an innovation contributed by Industrial Revolution. After it was introduced, transportation on Lake Balaton has prospered more than the past. Consequently, the Balaton Steam Shipping Association was set up in 1845.  
"Correct! It's amazing, isn't it? " He nods and faces in the direction to Lake Balaton.

"It is said that this new invention has saved many lives of Hungarian." She sighs.  
"Really? Why?"  
"During the war, those steaming boats have shipped revolutionists to escape from the suppressing army." She explains.  
"I guess there must be some exciting stories."  
"Exactly. Brave, adventurous, romantic, miserable, tragic…Too much to tell."  
"Do you know any of these stories?"  
She tells him several anecdotes of the freedom fighters led by during the revolution by Noszlopy Gáspár. Some are true and some are just rumors, but they don't mind at all.

They continue their wandering. When they pass Magyar Játékszín, the first constant theater of Transdanubia, Elizabeta trots to the hallway of the entrance and calls Gilbert to come up.  
"What is it?" He asks.  
"Listen! The actors are performing in Hungarian."  
"Really?"  
The theater was opened by Sándor Kisfaludy in 1831 and donated by Tihany abbacy. It is a precious home to Hungarian language since the official language of Hungary is German currently. The performance has already started, so they try to have a peek from the window, but only hear the songs and get a blurred view. "If we have come earlier, maybe we could have bought the tickets. What a pity." She complains.

After leaving the theater, they roam around the shore of the lake. They sit down on a bench, stars above them glittering as if they are whispering among the silence of the pair. Elizabeta clenches her fists on her lap, watching the waving surface of Lake Balaton. At last, she breaks the quietness. "Gilbert, should I fight?"

He is awoken from his trance by her abrupt question. "…Against or for what?" A faint smile forms on her lips. "I'm different from him, and I know we can never be the same or in one." In the usual, he would just echo her view and make fun of that aristocrat and his childhood friend arrogantly. This time, however, he doesn't but rather makes no comment in silence.

Elizabeta continues. "Like Germanization. They don't know through the forcing education can be so effective and yet useless. On one hand, we have been influenced greatly by the power of the other culture and regime, and become submissive in order to gain more happiness than suffer; we even really enjoy the benefits brought by this union. On the other hand, people will in the end find that it is not their root, and it will only lead to the collapse of alliance and rebellion from the suppressed ones." She pauses, and says, "I know the experiment of independence has failed, but who knows there won't be chances soon or later?"

He ponders deeply at her words, and finally says, "I think you should. You know what is best for your people and country." She rebuts, "No, they are now just tired. It is not easy to stand up again after you tumble harshly." He senses her negative emotion. "Don't give up so fast." She throws him a fierce stare. "I never give up." A moment later, she softens her tone. "Maybe I can at least make some difference to change the situation. But how?"

He encourages her. "You must try..."  
"Do you truly believe we can change the situation so easily?" He wants to challenge her, but he can't find concrete reasons. After all, "they" are embodiment of their countries and the will of people. It is never clear to distinguish the effects of their own actions as individuals to their people, nor ability to change situations in their own ways. Limited freedom, so they say.  
Then, she adds, "Besides, time to recover is needed desperately. We still know we need this union."

The union, he repeats sarcastically soundlessly. She doesn't have an even position at all, and she still needs to ask for help from that man. Somehow, he just can't tolerate it. All of a sudden, he growls out. "Then find others allies. Austria is not the only choice." She looks a little surprised, but soon changes to an aching expression. "Then you tell me who? Russia? France? Don't be ridiculous."

You still have me, he yells in his mind, and yet the words cannot come out of his mouth. He definitely knows she says the truth. Under such tension, it is not wise to trigger another war between Prussia and Austria. A rising power requires time to grow. Furthermore, he senses that she didn't mention his on purpose. Nevertheless, he is not able to swallow this bitterness. Their words inevitably hurt each other. He turns away and bites his lips.

The pair says no more. Branches sway in a chilly wind along the shore.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

I've been working on the latter chapters of the story, and it takes more time to divide the paragraphs appropriately. This may be the longest chapter of the series.

1. Noszlopy Gáspár was a freedom fighter in the 1848 Revolution.

2. Magyar Játékszín and Germanization: The policy led by Joseph II (1780–90), a leader influenced by the Enlightenment, who sought to centralize control of the empire and to rule it as an enlightened despot, determined German as the official language a kind of cultural hegemony. As a result, Hungarian reacted by insisting on the right to use their own tongue, and the Hungarian theater is an instance.

3. Transdanubia: the western area of Hungary, which refers to the lands around Lake Balaton. it was also a richer area due to neighboring Austria during 19th century.

4. During the Hungarian Revolution of 1848, Austrian Empire called Russia and other nations in Eastern Europe like Romania for help to suppress the revolts in Hungary.


	10. Chapter 10 Stories for good

**10. Stories for good**

* * *

The awkward atmosphere has sucked the delight Elizabeta and Gilbert just had before. On their way back to the inn, they walk in uncomfortable silence as he follows behind her.

She knows that to some extent, she just poured all her stress and frustration out, which affected him unjustifiably. She wants to show him a friendly gesture to bury the hatchet, but she doesn't know how and cannot find a chance. Furthermore, his aimless anger out of nowhere (at least she doesn't know why) upsets her. She takes a quick glance of him and finds the other seems to be sulking or making a dead end by himself. Is it necessary to make such a long face?

Just as she almost drowns in her chaotic thoughts, they already arrive at the suit. Elizabeta can only try her best to bid him good night calmly. "Then…see you tomorrow morning…" Before she closes the door, Gilbert grabs her wrist almost roughly. "What is it?" He doesn't answer her but pulls her into his room and leans on the door, hindering the way out. She gazes at him half suspiciously and half expectantly, her heart pounding speedily.

He looks in her eyes. "I want you to be here tonight." She is astonished by his move and cannot utter a word. "But…but I want to sleep and rest…"He still doesn't let go of her, looking serious. She becomes nervous. "…Why? What do you…" She begins to fear and cannot finish her question because she is not able to see through his mind now.

Gilbert starts to wonder about her reaction. Since they left the shore, she has appeared unusually absent-minded. When they climbed upstairs just now, she didn't pay attention to the red carpet above the floor, and if he hadn't noticed in time and caught her on the back, she would have already fallen off the stairs. More oddly, she seemed to not feel the danger or his touch and kept moving. And now, she gets even kind of scared. Is she bewitched or something?

"Hey, are you alright?" She stammers, "…oh, you…ye…yes, I'm fine." He is so close to her that the shadow blurs his feature. She leans back a little, only to realize she almost trips over her skirt's ruffle. She balances herself again and titles her head with utmost courage.  
"…Are, are you mad?"  
His eyes widen. "Why say that?"  
"…Because you haven't spoken to me until we're in this room…"  
He frowns. "…Wasn't it you who didn't want to talk?"  
"No, I thought you were mad about…me."  
"…No, I wasn't, and I shouldn't." She relaxes a little. "Sorry." She lowers her head. "Don't be."

After adapting to darkness, Gilbert notices Elizabeta's cheeks turn pink.  
"Stay here tonight, will you?" He asks gently.  
"Are…are you doing anything?" She is too shy to lift her eyes.  
"I'm doing what you want to." He answers without hesitation.  
She glances away. "…crafty."  
"Ha?" Out of surprise, he loosens his grip of her.  
"What if I say I want you to dive in the lake until tomorrow morning?" She threatens.  
"If you stay with me, I'll do it."  
A moment later, she murmurs. "…Idiot." She gives up and sits down directly on the carpet in front of the fire place, and he follows her as well.

"Tell me a story." She requests.  
"A story? What kind?" He didn't expect that.  
"Any kind you please." She takes off her leather boots and lies down on the rug in a totally opposite way of acting like a lady, which makes him laugh.  
"How about 'Struwwelpeter'?" He proposes.  
"What is it?" She asks.  
"It's a book with illustration for children that was published in Deutschland not long ago. I have read it to Ludwig before."  
"Go on."

The book contains several short stories plus aggrandizement effects in order to teach children to behave; if not, dreadful things would happen to them. For instance, there is a story called " The Story of Flying Robert":

_"When the rain comes tumbling down_  
_In the country or the town,_  
_All good little girls and boys_  
_Stay at home and mind their toys._  
_Robert thought, - "No, when it pours,_  
_It is better out of doors."_  
_Rain it did, and in a minute_  
_Bob was in it._  
_Here you see him, silly fellow,_  
_Underneath his red umbrella._

_What a wind! Oh! how it whistles_  
_Through the trees and flow'rs and thistles._  
_It has caught his red umbrella;_  
_Now look at him, silly fellow,_  
_Up he flies_  
_To the skies._  
_No one heard his screams and cries;_  
_Through the clouds the rude wind bore him,_  
_And his hat flew on before him._

_Soon they got to such height,_  
_They were nearly out of sight!_  
_And the hat went Up so high,_  
_That it almost touch'd the sky._  
_No one ever yet could tell_  
_Where they stopp'd, or where they fell;_  
_Only this one thing is plain,_  
_Rob was never seen again!"_

Elizabeta keeps laughing during the stories because the plots are so childish but possible to happen in some way. Besides, Gilbert intentionally speaks in a melodic tone and tells the stories seriously, making them much funnier.  
"Those kids are so naughty, and some consequences are just too overstated!" She comments.  
"Ja, but Ludwig seemed to believe those endings would surely happen and now he obeys those admonishments without doubts."  
"Oh, don't pick on your little brother. Ludwig is an angel!"  
"You should see his face when hearing those stories." He smirks.  
"How come dose Ludwig get a brother like you? I'm sorry for him." She sighs.  
"Hey, I'm a responsible big brother who tells him stories every night!"  
"No, you're just a bad example of adults."  
"I'm not!"  
"Yes, you are!"  
They start to squabble and quarrel like children. In the end, Elizabeta grows tired and stops bickering first.

"Gil."  
"What?" He groans.  
"I think Ludwig is luckier than us."  
"Why?" He stares at her.  
"Because there are no others to warn us what we shouldn't do."

They become quiet once again. Gilbert adds some more charcoal into the fireplace, watching his partner's face with her eyes closed for a while. Suddenly, he realizes the whole situation clearly: of them two, of the others. She is so near to him and yet so far away, lying by his side. Nevertheless, he never regrets any of his acts in his life.

Later, he stands up and crouches before her. "Eliza, don't fall asleep here. You'll catch a cold." She sits up and rubs her eyes in a lovely way, her slim ankles exposing to the cool air. He takes up her hand and leads her to his bed. He sits down on the bed next to her. While she is yawning, he leans in and kisses her cheek without a warning, and her eyes flicker open immediately. At first, he just wanted to touch her a bit; but when he sees rosy clouds on her cheekbones, he becomes not able to control himself and gives her more kisses: on her forehead, her rims of eyes, her nose, and her lips. She seems to squirm reluctantly, but then surrenders to his firm hold of her shoulders.

He pushes her down on the bed sheet, and she never walks out of his room all night.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

I think this story is coming to an end, although I kind of hate to say goodbye to them.

1. "Struwwelpeter "was regarded as the first published illustration book for children in 1845 by Heinrich Hoffmann in reaction to the lack of good children's books. He uses simple words and vivid pictures to teach children to behave well by warning severe consequences of misbehavior.


	11. Chapter 11 Finale

**11. Finale**

* * *

When the morning comes, Elizabeta wakes up before Gilbert.

It's the sixth day of their journey. To them, however, it is like a century has already passed. They haven't heard any news or dealt the work as a country for days, which twists their senses of time passing by.

She watches his face for a long time, being lost in thought. It is the chirps from birds outside the window that pulls her back. She turns around softly to get off the bed, only to find her waist is locked by his arms. She doesn't struggle, but she doesn't turn to face him, either. She can sense his warm breath on her shoulder.

"Run away with me." He speaks in her ear directly and bluntly.  
"To go away with you?"  
"Yes."  
"Leaving all behind?"  
"Yes."  
She is astonished by the perseverance in his words.

"Do you know what will happen?"  
"No."  
"Do you have plans for us already?"  
"No."  
He holds her harder towards his torso, his foot rubbing her ankle.

"It will seem like we are eloping." She whispers softly.  
"Are we?" He asks in reply.  
"Are we not?"  
"If you say so." He begins to circle his fingers on her stomach, making her giggle like a little girl.

"We set off tomorrow morning after we discuss about our plan. You can start to pack up your stuff later." She simply nods, tickling his neck. "Don't worry too much. We shall find our own way." He encourages her, his hand caressing her hair.

The morning is so bright and splendid that her hair strands reflect slices of rainbow colors. Everything in this room is glazed with golden sunlight, shining incredibly. He feels as if he steps into the dreamscape of Eden unconsciously.

A moment later, she turns back to him and embraces his neck, throwing herself into his warmth.

* * *

It's all because of me, Gilbert tells himself.

Elizabeta said she wanted to go back to her room for changing or bathing. Before noon, he knocked the door, but no one answered. He entered her room and found she was out. At first, he thought she just wandered outside and would be back later. However, as time flowed by, she still didn't show up, which started to panic him.

He rushes to the front desk in the lobby to ask if a young lady has ordered a coach or done the check-out, but he only receives a denial. He hastens here and there around the inn to ask waiters randomly for her trace, but still in vain.

Then, he infers that she may just be at some place in town, considering with no transportation used and no packed luggage taken away. Besides, she won't be too far away in such a short time.

However, although striding hastily along lanes and streets, he still couldn't obtain any signs of her. For once or twice he thinks he has found her, but he is only mistaken due to similar figures or hair colors. Panting and sweating strenuously, he runs in all direction and searches every tiny corner, just hoping for a glimpse of her. She has left with no word, no indication.

For the first time, he feels fear—crawling up from the bottom of his heart—of that she might just vanish soundlessly like dew in an early morning. If it is because of him, he can never forgive himself.

* * *

At dusk, Gilbert finally discovers Elizabeta in Kerek Templom, which is a small round church locating in a corner near the hospital. The Roman-classical style of the church was designed by Fruhmann Antal in 1841 in Reform Era. The circle-shaped architecture is covered with a dome and Ionian columns based on the Pantheon building in Rome.

When he catches her silhouette at a quick glance through the entrance, he almost tumbles on the path. After resting himself by leaning against the pillar and gasping for a while, he walks in slowly. The church is empty and serene, with no one but only Elizabeta sitting on the pew near the aisle in the front. He walks along the aisle and stops at her side. She appears to be praying or contemplating for a long time.

She is not surprised at his being and remains that position as he sits down next to her. They listen to the deathly stillness until the church bell rings seven times. He doesn't want to ask her where she has been, and somehow, he vaguely senses something is approaching. It is not concrete but abstract; an omen, perhaps.

Then, the silence is broken. "Do you know that they are now building railways from Budapest to here?" After these days being together, he has already gotten used to the way she casts a question out of nowhere when they stay silent like this. "Are they?" She turns her face to his. "Yeah, all the way from Wien down south to the areas near Lake Balaton." After the failed revolution, the existing lines are nationalized by the Austrian State and new lines were built in Hungary. He doesn't even bother to ask why since the reason is so obvious: political control, economic effects, and above all, military force. With railway, all these goals can be achieved easily.

After a moment, she speaks. "You know they're about to be arriving here soon, right?" He doesn't reply. "It's alright you didn't tell me about it. I know you…"

"Nothing is goddamn alright! Don't lie to me or to yourself! " He shouts fiercely, echoing in the round space. She still keeps her calmness.  
"Gilbert…"  
"…Please, Elizabeta, don't do this…" He grasps her forearm.  
"I really appreciate all you've done for me. Don't feel sad."  
He clenches his teeth so hard that he bites his lips and small blood drops pop out. She stretches out her hand to brush his cheek.

While she is consoling him, a man steps into the church. When the other walks upon toward the pair, Gilbert shelters Elizabeta behind his back and spits angry menace at Roderich.

"Don't you dare to blame her. It was all my idea."  
"I don't have this kind of intention. I have always believed in her." Roderich turns his sight to Elizabeta. "You know what you shall do, Elizabeta. To force you back is never my wish."  
"Please give us a little more time, Mr. Roderich." She begs. "It won't take long."  
"Eliza!" Gilbert seems to want to fight back, but she simply shakes her head.

Roderich sighs. "I will leave you two alone and wait outside the church…Hungary." He adds, "And I don't prepare a seat in the carriage for you, Prussia." Gilbert just throws him a sneer. He lifts his glasses and walks away gracefully.

When the pair becomes alone again, Gilbert whispers. "Listen, we can still sneak out from the back…" Elizabeta holds his hands. "No, you've done enough. You won't realize how much this trip means to me." He grips her fingers, putting his forehead on hers. They hug each other on the pew wordlessly, clinching each other's back desperately.

Finally, the pair parts with strong reluctance. "I'll take you out." He offers his hand to escort her out, but she doesn't move at all. "What is it?" She answers hesitantly. "…I sprained my right ankle carelessly on the way here, so…" "Why didn't you say it earlier?" He crouches instantly and takes off her boot immediately. "Hey, it's already swollen! How come you turned out like this?" She murmurs. "…I was in a rush and confused…" "…"

He elevates her injured ankle and puts it on his knee in order to reduce bleeding and swelling by allowing fluids to flow away from the site of injury. "There is no ice to ease your pain now, so I can only bandage your ankle." He seeks something to fix her ankle in place, and then finds her handkerchief she lent him on that rainy day in his pocket. He wraps the handkerchief around her ankle carefully, providing support and compression for the joint. "I can give it back to you now." She sees him trying to smile and not knowing he fails. After treatment, his fingers still linger on her foot, which tickles and embarrasses her at the same time.

When he puts her foot down, she tries to wear her boot back but gets hindered by him. He lowers his body in front of her and says, "Come. You can't walk like this." Noticing her hesitation, he pulls her down directly and carries her up from the pew on his back. "You don't need to do this. Just let me down and help me up… "

"Shut up. Hold still." He interrupts her rudely.

He walks slowly on the aisle with a dear burden on the back, while wishing he could never arrive at the end. Suddenly, he feels some hot drops flowing down on his neck. He says nothing but continues moving toward the door, as he discovers his sight grows blurred gradually.

She holds his neck tightly, her cheek leaning gently against his shoulder. Then, she whispers some words in his ear. He halts before the door in extreme astonishment, and he can only nod in response.

This is a dream in reality, and it will fade away eventually, just like the others in the sleep.

-End-

* * *

**Postscript**

The title "Last Fragments" is translated from a Chinese phrase called "吉光片羽", which refers to precious things or moments.

The places with names mentioned in this novel do exist, and you can find many beautiful pictures of them by Google.


End file.
